Shala'Raan vas Tonbay hung slumped in her harness. She ached everywhere and her suit declared multiple breaches, though how she wasn't sure. It didn't matter—a suit breach was a suit breach, which meant she was swimming in antibiotics. Her right shoulder didn't work right; her head spun every time she moved it; her eyelids wouldn't open; and all she could hear was Shepard shouting.
Why was Shepard shouting? She always had such an edge to her voice when she did it. Raan wanted to cue her radio, tell anyone listening that if Shepard was shouting like that then she backed whatever it was. But it required too much thought, too much movement.
She gave a start as she sucked breath. She'd passed out or stopped breathing or both, but her body hadn't been quite ready to give up the ghost. Keelah…she'd never been in such pain before…
The sound of metal grinding on metal, a wrenching screaming sound that made her try to free herself from her harness. The effort sent her spiraling into blackness again.
She jerked back to consciousness to find herself being carefully maneuvered out of her harness. Her eyelids felt like lead and although she tried to struggle there was no point.
"Admiral Shala'Raan recovered," a warbling voice announced. "Administering aid."
Three-fingered hands began fiddling with her suit until the alarms indicating suit breeches were sealed. Then someone began manipulating her shoulder until it slipped back into place, leaving her gasping. Her eyes finally did fly open and she let out a strangled scream as she regarded a geth looking down at her, clearly having fixed her dislocated shoulder.
"Do not panic, Admiral. You will cause yourself further damage."
"What do you want?!" she managed to squawk, before realizing in some corner of her mind that the geth spoke to her. It actually spoke to her.
The geth let her arm go and held up its hands. "My instructions are to find, aid, and secure your person," it answered calmly.
"…instructions…?" Raan found herself panting, her head spinning again.
"Shepard-Captain would wish you tended, recovered, and brought to her," the geth answered. "These units are responding to that objective. Your suit has been repaired, but you are not able to cover the distance. May we convey you?"
Shepard…was leading the geth? It made no sense. It made no sense at all, and the lack of sense nearly sent her reeling back into darkness. The darkness would have been preferable.
"Admiral Raan? Please confirm permission to convey you."
It was…asking her permission to move her. It could easily simply do it, never mind her permission. Just as, she realized belatedly, it could have killed her quite easily without so much talking…and it was talking in a language she could understand. "What are you?" she asked shakily.
"I am geth," it answered simply.
It called itself 'I.'
"And I am here to help you. Please confirm permission to convey you."
It was so damnably persistent. If her head didn't hurt already it would have started hurting now. "V-very well."
Synthetic arms picked her up, carrying her carefully. "Admiral Raan has been safely recovered. Heading for rendezvous coordinates."
Raan drifted in confusion and dizziness as the geth chattered—in a language easily understood—to what had to be fellow units tending the damaged bodies of her crew. "What will happen to my crew?" she demanded suddenly, trying to use herself.
"Your crew will be removed to the camp established for quarians trapped on Rannoch. It is geth belief that Shepard-Captain will oversee further arrangements."
It was like they saw Shepard as a kind of filter, a way to buffer interactions between factions who had been enemies for too long to manage on their own.
"…why Shepard?"
"Because Legion believed in her. Please be still, Admiral. Speed is necessary before rendezvous coordinates change."
She had the vague sense of motion, and of an increase in speed. It was smooth though, so she didn't feel jostled or bumped about. She hung in her haze and waited, thoughts moving sluggishly, then too fast, then sluggishly again.
Shepard commanded the geth…because the platform that called itself Legion believed in her? It made no sense.
She came out of her haze when the geth spoke again. "Shepard-Captain. Admiral Raan has been recovered. She has suffered—"
"Auntie Raan?" Tali's voice demanded, shaking Raan out of her stupor. She was on the ground, a human marine kneeling near her, omnitool open to reveal Tali. Her voice shook. It had been so long since Tali called her 'Auntie'—so very long, indeed…
"Hello, Tali," Raan managed to slur, recognizing the marine looking down at her as being the other Spectre. He seemed ot be double-checking the aid administered by the geth.
"It's going to be okay," Tali assured her.
"Thanks," Shepard agreed.
"We believed you would wish her recovered," the geth unit declared. "Will you take our report now?"
"…sure…" Shepard answered uncertainly.
"The rest of the survivors in her ship are being treated. A camp has been established for survivors on Rannoch. The units with you know where. Do you have further orders?"
"You're asking me for orders?" Shepard asked.
"Legion spoke well of you."
"I see…" Shepard answered, sounding constricted.
"We defer to your judgment, Shepard-Captain."
"You're going to be okay, Admiral," Shepard announced firmly. "Just hang in there for a bit. I'll meet you at the camp."
Raan nodded as best she could, wondering if all this was some kind of pre-death delusion. But the pain suggested it wasn't. "You haven't called me Auntie in a long time, Tali," Raan observed.
"Sometimes you just have to let go," Tali answered. "I'll see you at the camp, Auntie."
Why did that sound like a recent lesson?
Raan forced her eyes open to regard the sky as the geth continued carrying her. So this was Rannoch. It wasn't how she expected to see it for the first time….but at least she was seeing it.